Insight
by Lugian Before Swine
Summary: MWPP A look into the daily life of the Marauders...which is, in short, a lot of crazy stuff. Eventual RLSB slash, although it's about all the Marauders. Humor! Yay! Enjoy!
1. Creepy Underclassman Girls

**A/N: Yes, I am fully aware of the fact that I don't need to start another chaptered story, but I've been wanting to write something like this for a while now, so here it is. Hopefully my updates will be almost regular, because I have a lot of ideas for this story. XD And yes, this is about all the Marauders collectively, but it will contain RLSB SLASH…you've been fairly warned.**

**Disclaimer: It's not mine. Please don't sue me; I'm broke anyway.**

**Insight – 1**

Remus sat up in what appeared to be an unfamiliar place. His vision was exceedingly blurry and his stomach felt as if he'd eaten fifty pounds of food. He blinked, then blinked again. Slowly, his vision cleared and he sat up, recognizing the place as the Hospital Wing. _How…?_

"Remus! You're alive!" Suddenly, his stomach got a lot heavier due to the fact that there was 150 pounds of Sirius sitting on him.

"Sirius, you idiot, he's hurt!" yelled James, who was standing at Remus's side, holding a broomstick.

Remus moaned in pain and Sirius climbed to the floor. "And who was it who hurt him, Prongs? It wasn't me!"

Suddenly, Remus remembered. "Give me that broomstick, James, I'm gonna burn that broomstick—"

"It was an accident!" began James, clutching his broomstick defensively.

"Like hell it was," said Sirius. "You turned around and batted him right in the stomach."

"How was I supposed to know he was standing behind me?" cried James indignantly.

"I specifically remember announcing that I was behind you," said Remus.

"I remember, too!" shouted Sirius. "Then you whipped around and—"

"Be quiet!" hissed a voice from around the corner.

James lowered his voice. "Can we drop this? Remus, I'm really sorry."

Remus huffed. James sighed. There was a pause in which Sirius's stomach gurgled. No one paid it any mind.

"Well," began James, "I'm going back to the dormitory. Peter slept through this whole thing, so I'm going to fill him in."

"Don't forget to tell him the part about you being a git," said Sirius.

"I won't," James growled, and with that, he left.

"How long do I have to be in here?" asked Remus.

"Just until your stomach feels better."

"It's good enough. Let's get out of here."

"You sure you're up to it?"

"No thanks to your pouncing, but yes. Just help me up, would you?"

-

When Remus and Sirius returned to the Common Room, they found James staring absently out a window and Peter on a couch near the fire…knitting?

"Pete…why are you…umm…" began Sirius, but he was interrupted by a pack of Second Year girls giggling as they passed him on the way to the staircase.

"Shut up!" he yelled. The girls whimpered. Sirius shot them an icy glare of death and they skittered away whining.

"I'm making a sweater," said Peter proudly, knowing what Sirius was going to ask.

Remus sat down on the couch opposite Peter. "It looks very nice. I can tell you've been putting effort into it."

Peter nodded. "Do you know those girls, Sirius?" he asked. "The blonde one was kind of cute."

"Go for it, Pete, she's only three years younger than you!" said James, turning away from the window.

"No, I don't know them and I wish they'd leave me alone."

"I'm pretty sure they've started an official fan club," said Remus. "I saw some girls in the library yesterday making t-shirts with someone's face on them. I'm guessing it was yours."

"Are you kidding?!"

"Nope."

"Aww, Padsie's got himself a fan club!" said James, sitting down next to Remus. "How sweet."

"That's a little creepy," said Peter, looking up from his knitting.

Sirius growled.

"You may want to tell someone about it before it gets out of hand," advised Remus. "Girls are strange. Who knows how far they'll go?"

"Oh, damn. You're right. I'll make an announcement at breakfast tomorrow."

"An announcement? This can't be good," sighed James.

"Best of luck, Sirius," said Peter, returning to his knitting.

Sirius turned to Remus, the only one who hadn't commented yet.

"Well, I'm not going to stop you," he said. "It'll be entertaining, at least."

"Thank you, Moony! I appreciate your support in my noble cause."

Remus smiled and shook his head. Breakfast would be interesting.

**It'll get funnier, I promise. XD**

**Lu**


	2. Breakfast Catastrophes

**Hello, and welcome to…**

**Insight - 2**

James woke up. Without even opening his eyes, he knew it was 20 minutes too early to get out of bed. So he yawned, stretched, and tried to roll over, but couldn't. He tried again, and this time, someone giggled.

James opened his eyes to find Sirius sitting on his chest.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING."

"Good morning!" said Sirius, who bounced off the bed and landed not-so-gracefully on the floor. "Ready for breakfast?"

James scowled. "Does it look like I'm _ready for breakfast_?"

Sirius shrugged and walked off, heading towards Remus's bed, probably to wake him up in a similar disturbing manner.

James rolled over and addressed Sirius through the corner of pillowcase he was chewing. "Why are you uph so earhly?"

The answer was apparently, "GOOD GOD, SIRIUS!" James accepted this and promptly fell back asleep.

"No more sleeping for you, little stag," said Sirius from Remus's bed.

Remus was recovering. "You pronounce the word 'little' really creepily."

"I try. PRONGS. UP. NOW. Remember my amazing breakfast speech I'm going to give today? You wouldn't want to miss it, would you?"

"As a point of interest," said Remus, "breakfast isn't for another hour."

"I am fully aware of that, however, we're going to seize the moment and _get up now_." And with that, Sirius walked over to where the "little stag" was sleeping and began prodding him in the stomach.

"Stop it, you dumb dog," James mumbled.

By this time, the entire dorm was half-awake and very angry.

"They're going to start foaming soon," noted Remus, pointing to the gang of half-dead zombies that were sitting up in their beds and glaring. "Also, why has no one woken Peter up?"

"Can we move on, _please_? Fine, I'm going down by myself, and you guys are going to miss a fantastic speech."

-

Somehow, the disgruntled Marauders all made it down to breakfast and sat in the middle of the house table.

"Perfect spot for my speech," explained Sirius. "Everyone will be able to see me."

Remus was staring off into space, when suddenly, a rotten banana appeared on his plate. "What the—Sirius? Why is there a—"

"No time to talk. Must prepare."

"But—James—what the hell—"

"Why did you bring a rotten banana to breakfast, Remus?" asked Peter curiously.

"I didn't _bring_ the damned thing, it just appeared there!"

"Strange," said Peter, and then began stuffing his face.

Remus pointed accusingly at the offending banana, then turned and glared at Sirius. "If you are in any way behind this, I swear I'll—"

"Remus, if I gave you a banana, you can be sure it wouldn't be _rotten_ and _shriveled_." The suggestive statement and closely following creepy wink did nothing to ease the poor boy's freak-out. So Remus did the next most sensible thing, which was to flail his arms helplessly.

James had fallen asleep in his pudding. His left eye twitched approximately every ten seconds, slowly and methodically being filled with pudding goo.

"Okay, I believe the time has come," said Sirius. He stood up on his chair, put one foot on the table, and cleared his throat, which accumulated about six listeners. So he jumped up on the table and shook it a bit, which garnered him the ears of about 25 people. Pretty soon, the entire Gryffindor table was listening, or at least staring, and a few people in other houses were, too.

"Ahem," said Sirius loudly. James woke up and immediately began clawing at his pudding-filled eye.

"Students of Hogwarts, and I'm mainly talking to creepy underclassman girls here, but anyway, I have an announcement, which I am about to announce…"

By this point, half the people listening had lost interest, and the teachers had begun to notice the commotion.

"I'd like to tell you that making shirts with my face on them doesn't make me love you, and furthermore—"

Then someone threw an orange, and it all went downhill from there.

That evening, at 7:00, Sirius reported to Filch and began his half-hearted cleaning of trophies. Filch had deemed that the whole breakfast-food-fight-during-unfinished-speech catastrophe had been Sirius's fault, for reasons that the poor puppy couldn't understand, but that were very clear to everyone else.

-

"Damn pudding," James scowled as he rubbed his now-red eye with a wet washcloth.

**Sorry this was late. I'm no longer promising regular updates because I know I won't make the deadline. XD**

**-Lu**


End file.
